


Child of the Pits

by spaceliquid



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: M/M, Mech Preg, Mild Gore, Premature Birth, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2016-10-22
Packaged: 2018-08-23 23:27:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8346964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceliquid/pseuds/spaceliquid
Summary: In the pits of Kaon Megatronus and Soundwave's friendship leads to unexpected results. Now Megatronus has to face the problems of carrying while fighting in the arena and organizing a new movement.Something was bound to go wrong.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DarkSideOfTheSwamp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkSideOfTheSwamp/gifts).



> A very belated birthday gift for the wonderful [DarkSideOfTheSwamp](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkSideOfTheSwamp/pseuds/DarkSideOfTheSwamp). She wanted something with Megatron and Soundwave during their gladiator days and pregnant Megatron.  
> I live to deliver.

Soundwave was the first to notice that something was off. Megatronus himself, well, he was used to pain and discomfort in his body: the unlicensed medics of the gladiatorial Pits had neither wish, nor skill to repair their patients completely. After all, who would spend time and money to repair a mech who had a good chance to die the next day? And in the mines… If you got an injury that warranted medical attention, it meant you couldn’t work anymore – and thus, replacing you was cheaper.

Soundwave, coming from a high caste and all, had different ideas about medical care, so at first Megatronus just waved him off when the silent mech started insisting that he visited the medbay. But then Soundwave placed a hand on Megatronus’s abdomen and played an audio file for Megatronus: a sound of twin sparkbeat.

“What do you mean by that?” Megatronus tilted his head. “Is this the sound of my spark?”

Soundwave nodded. His sensors had always been attuned to much finer signals – one of the reasons he was feared and avoided in the Pits. Who knew how many secrets Soundwave could learn about his potential opponent by just standing next to them?

“Weird.” Megatronus frowned. Soundwave wouldn’t bother him if it wasn’t serious… “Fine. Let’s go see a medic.”

The medic – an ex-construction bot named Hook – stared at the results of his scans for a while, looking positively perplexed. The longer he stared, the more his face changed, until Megatronus’s patience ran out.

“Well? What is it?” He would be lying to himself if he said he didn’t start to worry.

“It’s… I can’t believe it.” Hook finally snapped out of his trance and met his patient’s optics. “I never thought it was even possible, but… Megatronus, you are carrying.”

***

Carrying.

Hook was right – it was impossible. Manual labor frames couldn’t carry. They were infertile by default, everybody knew it. Megatronus had never heard of a fellow miner (or another low caste member, for that matter) carrying a sparkling. One had to have a well-forged frame of an intellectual class at least for the newspark to bud and a gestation chamber to form. That was common knowledge!

And yet, the proof of the contrary was now resting under his spark. Megatronus’s hand lay on his stomach as he sat on his narrow berth, unable to fully process what happened.

“How?” He looked up at Soundwave, who was standing at his side like a silent sentry. “How could it even happen?”

Soundwave’s visor came to life, presenting Megatronus with a slideshow of their last match as a team and some sound clips from the night that followed. Most of them had been Megatronus’s own raspy venting as Soundwave plunged into his valve. That was a sign of trust – the entire occurrence was; the match showed that Megatronus was ready to rely on Soundwave in battle, and the night showed that he trusted Soundwave on personal level as well. The faceless mech had been following Megatronus for a long while by now, showing his loyalty and interest in Megatronus’s ideas, and even though Megatronus was intrigued (and impressed by the ex-upperclassmech’s skills), it took time for him to finally believe that Soundwave was a friend.

Apparently, the consummation of their friendship was even more fruitful than they both thought.

“No, that I figured out; I mean, how could I even kindle at all?” Megatronus cast a short glance at his palm that was still covering his stomach. “If anyone between the two of us could kindle, it’s you. That’s why you were spiking me.”

Soundwave shook his head, then started playing more sound clips, combining the fragments – the way he used when he wanted to construct a more complicated sentence.

“ _Wrong_ – **lower castes** –  capable – **_Senate’s lies_** – _sparklings require a lot of energy and material_ – **miner frame** – exhausted – **not enough** **nourishment**.” Soundwave bowed his head, his visor darkening. “ _Forgive me_ – didn’t think – **Megatronus’s** –  frame – _managed to collect_ – power – **_it seems_**.”

“It seems…” Megatronus echoed, staring into distance. “So we _are_ capable of creating sparklings? It’s just that no one has enough resources?” His blue optics narrowed, cold fire that Soundwave knew so well igniting in them. “We’ll have to make sure to educate our people after we move forward with our plans.”

Soundwave gave a curt nod.

“ **Noted**.” He paused, and for the first time in their acquaintance Megatronus thought that he appeared unsure. “Megatronus –  what plans – _with sparkling?_ ” Another pause, and then, almost meek: “ ** _Termination?_** ”

Megatronus didn’t really consider this before, too overwhelmed to think about the future, but it only took him a couple of seconds to decide.

“No.” He raised his head, facing the implacable surface of Soundwave’s visor. “This,” he stroked the armor hiding the newspark, “is a fighter. It came to life despite the impossible odds and despite all attempts of the world around it to make sure it never existed. And I will carry it; I will not terminate its chance for life.”

Soundwave straightened his back, his EM field, usually tame and hidden, bursting with energy. His chin rose up, and the recording he played was one of his own voice – of that only time when he broke his vow of silence after pledging himself to the unborn cause. Just as now he was pledging himself to the unborn sparkling.

_“As you command, Megatronus.”_

***

As the time passed, Megatronus understood why labor frames were unable to kindle; apparently, carrying a sparkling was much more difficult than holovid shows about nobles made it seem.

His body was changing, creating a gestation chamber around the tiny newspark, and that manufacturing process burned fuel faster than Megatronus could earn it. If he were still in the mines, he’d burn himself out in a few days; here, however, he did have some help.

Soundwave was giving him almost all energon he received. Megatronus had to actually sit down with him and outright order him to draw the line at the minimum necessary for Soundwave to fight in the arena. The silent mech had to accept these conditions after Megatronus reminded him that neither of them could afford being out of commission. He, of course, fought in the matches as well, despite the growing pain in his abdomen. Hook (who was sworn to silence with Megatronus’s blade at his throat and Soundwave’s feelers looming over his head) said that it was the sign of the gestation chamber being constructed, and that it would stop soon.

The matches themselves became harder. Megatronus had to be more cautious now, watching out for strikes aimed at his abdomen – which meant protecting it with other body parts. He had a cannon, sure, but long-ranged combat was never favored in the Pits. If one wanted people to make bets and pay viewing fees, one needed to thrill them – and that meant real danger and spilled energon.

There was another problem that manifested after a couple of deca-cycles – one that Megatronus forgot to take into account when he considered the possibility of carrying in the overpopulated slums of Kaon. Hook didn’t lie about the pain subsiding after the gestation chamber was ready. But the full-formed gestation chamber required raw CNA material for creation of the sparking’s protoform – transfluid, to be precise. It was the heat.

Carriers had always been a kink, for every caste and every city; there were numerous porn videos and numerous buymechs pretending to be in heat. Now Megatronus knew why.

His body felt heavy, sluggish; it wanted to nurture, not to fight for survival. It wanted to be kept in a safe, comfortable place and fragged, fragged, fragged until it was full with precious resources it could process and pour into the tiny developing frame. His valve was constantly swollen, ready to leak lubricants at the slightest touch, and his EM field was thick with charge – but Megatronus absolutely couldn’t allow it! He was the gladiator of Kaon; he had to always present the image of unwavering strength and power.

He couldn’t spread the tantalizing allure of his charged EM field.

He tried hiding it, of course; keeping it close to his body, so that it barely reached beyond the plates of his armor. But the exhausting need and distracting haze in his mind finally took their toll during one of the matches: a slip of self-control, and the optics of Megatronus’s opponent widened – but the shock in them was almost instantly replaced by feral, primal _lust_. He leaped onto Megatronus, forgetting all caution, trying to push him to the ground, field flaring up – and Megatronus didn’t miss his chance. The amorous mech’s head rolled from his shoulders, cut off with one fell swipe of Megatronus’s blade, and the match was over.

For one Megatronus was thankful for the high walls separating the first rows of seats from the arena. He gave his usual triumphant salutes and left the spotlight, EM field tucked under his armor again. He went straight to his cell, without even visiting the washracks. The washracks… would be too crowded right now.

He leaned on the door of his tiny room as soon as it slammed closed behind him. His spark was racing in his chest, his valve pulsing, cycling down on nothing, yearning, demanding. The washracks would be crowded, if he went there somebody would surely spot his hungry EM field, and then there would be no way to hide. Megatronus shivered at the imaginary touches of countless hands, feeling him up, caressing his overheating protoform, fondling his interface panel… They would spike him, they would all spike him, and he would just ask for more. The Arena’s champion turned into the Arena’s whore.

He almost threw up at this thought.

A ping on his private comm frequency was so polite Megatronus nearly missed it.

[What?] he rasped, opening the comm line.

[Soundwave… offer assistance?]

There was also a snapshot of the area attached – with Soundwave’s energy signature marked it the passageway leading to Megatronus’s room. Not close enough to be intruding, not far enough to be timid.

Megatronus sighed, surrendering, and sent a confirmation.

***

Once again, Soundwave’s help made the carrying process tolerable. He provided Megatronus with transfluid as diligently as he provided him with energon, tending to the carrier’s needs but never being overbearing. Maybe it was simply the sire’s coding speaking… but Megatronus doubted it. They were no mindless machines; coding could be kept in line by the power of will and the sharpness of mind. Megatronus still battled in the arena, still spent nights talking to people in secret gatherings Soundwave organized, still uploaded his speeches to the Grid – even though the carrier’s coding screamed at him for risking his life, demanding that the sparkling’s well-being was made the first priority. Soundwave was more than capable of controlling his own coding as well.

Yet he was here now, resting beside Megatronus, his frame spent, worn out by the need to produce transfluid and sate the ravenous longing in Megatronus’s gestation chamber. Megatronus watched the slow pulse of the purple biolights, too pale to be healthy; Soundwave’s feelers were still wrapped around Megatronus’s waist, their grip gentle and non-invasive. No, this wasn’t coding.

This was loyalty.

Megatronus closed his optics, stroking the plating hiding the gestation chamber. His carrying still didn’t show; Hook considered it weird, Megatronus considered it a blessing. His heavy labor frame was large, so there was no wonder it didn’t bloat like some frail noble’s body.

Soundwave was a former noble too, but he was anything but frail. He was nothing like an ordinary noble, to be honest. Megatronus remembered being wary of Soundwave at first, but that wariness was long gone. No noblemech would risk his own well-being for a sparkling he sired with a lowlife. No noblemech would support the cause Megatronus was creating – one that some started to call the Decepticons.

No, Soundwave was no noble. He was a Decepticon.

***

The carrying ended just as unexpectedly as it began. In fact, Megatronus didn’t even understand at first what was going on; it was Soundwave who recognized the signs and ushered him to Hook’s medbay.

“It is too early… Why is it coming so early?” Megatronus tried to sound angry and threatening, but it still came out scared.

“You are a gladiator,” Hook explained, concentrated on strapping Megatronus to the slab. “It’s a miracle the sparkling survived as long as it did. Now quiet!”

And Megatronus kept quiet, even as Hook cut his stomach and pulled out the gestation chamber; even as he opened it up, delving inside; even as the gestational fluid and half-processed energon dripped on the floor. Megatronus’s fangs dug into his lower lip, leaving deep, ugly cuts that might never heal completely, and his claws screeched against the slab, but he kept quiet.

As did the sparkling.

_‘Is it alive?’_ Megatronus wanted to ask, trying to focus at the tiny ball of metal in Hook’s hands; everything was so blurry… But what escaped his throat was an incoherent rasp, and the lights went out.

***

He came to on the same slab, the straps already loosened and his stomach welded shut. He felt weak like a newspark.

The newspark!

“Where…” Megatronus sat up – and immediately sagged back as a wave of pain and nausea coursed through him. A strong arm held his shoulders, supporting him, and Megatronus sensed the familiar EM field: Soundwave.

“Where is the sparkling?” he asked, voice hoarse and rough.

“It’s here, in the feeding capsule,” Hook replied from the other side of the room. Megatronus turned his head – and there it was, the capsule full of glowing energon, and inside – a tiny body… Too tiny.

“It’s too small, Megatronus,” Hook said, as if he heard his thoughts. “It will never be able to support a full frame.”

“Then put it into a minicon’s frame.” Higher castes might have considered minicons a lower life form, but neither Megatronus, nor Soundwave shared this view. As for the rest of the world… Megatronus will see to that.

Hook sighed.

“Megatronus, it’s not about the size of the frame. Well, not _only_ about the size; yes, theoretically this spark could exist in a smaller frame, but it isn’t fully developed. It will never be able to support itself, _period_. Not without your spark to feed it.”

There was a pause filled with heavy silence; Megatronus was trying to control the helpless rage boiling in his chest. No, it couldn’t end like this! Not this child, not the first child of a low caste!

But then another voice rumbled behind him – an audio recording of that one time when Soundwave spoke to him in his own voice:

_“I… pledge myself.”_

“You?” Megatronus looked over his shoulder, seeing his own widened optics reflected in the glass of Soundwave’s visor. “But how?”

“Soundwave – **information hub** – _can support_ – drones – _will be able to_ – **_support newspark_**.”

“As a symbiont, you mean?” Hook, apparently, already got Soundwave’s idea. “That could work… But you do understand that this child will never be like norm…” he stuttered when Soundwave’s feelers rose over him, “I mean, other Cybertronians. Its abilities will be limited, and it will be dependent on you – forever.”

“It was born in the Pits of Kaon,” Megatronus interrupted, and his voice filled the medbay like an echo of a distant thunder. “It was born a fighter. It faced hardships since its conception – and it survived.”

“…Very well,” Hook said at last. “It, um. Has rudimentary flight protocols. It is going to be a flightframe.”

“All the better.” Megatronus nodded and finally allowed himself to relax, the exhaustion catching up with him. Soundwave’s feeler brushed his side – a little speck of gentleness. “You’ll have to come up with a name,” he told the silent mech, and Soundwave inclined his head.

Megatronus closed his optics. Their child will live.

And if the world is not ready to welcome it, Megatronus will have to remake it.


End file.
